


Anything Goes

by haggarrrd



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haggarrrd/pseuds/haggarrrd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is running from his problems and moves to England, where he meets Jean Prouvaire. The bubbly poet introduces him to his friends, where Grantaire sees and falls in love with the most beautiful man he has ever seen. But can he let go of everything back home to let himself be happy?</p>
<p>I suck at summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There's No Cure Like Travel

Grantaire handed his money over to the the taxi driver, then looked up at the small, white building that would serve as his home until he could find a job and secure a flat of his own. Grabbing the backpack that held all of his worldly possessions, he slung it over his shoulder and took a step towards. Further towards his future, he told himself, and another step away from his past. He had a very distinct plan set out ahead of him to make sure that his venture across the sea wasn't as much as a failure as his life at home was, and the first step laid behind the doors of B&B in front of him. 

He pushed the door out of his way, then lingered for a moment as he looked around the room and took in his new surroundings. The reception area was small and homely, the walls painted a powdery blue colour, and lined with pictures of people who were all smiling brightly, as if they were having the time of their lives. A lone receptionist stood behind a make-shift counter, strawberry blond hair tied up sloppily into long braid and adorned with a floral shirt; the man smiled at Grantaire as soon as their eyes met and in a melodic voice said, "welcome to Amber House B&B, my name's Jehan, how can I help you?" 

"I have... uh, an reservation?" Grantaire drawled hesitantly; his English wasn't too bad, but he was aware that his accent was thick and often distorted his words. "My name is Zacharie Grantaire." 

"Hold on just a moment," Grantaire watched as Jehan's fingers flew over the keyboard, that smile never leaving his face. He nodded after a moment and said, "That's right here. You're booked in to stay in room 3 just up the stairs for three weeks. Zacharie Grantaire, that's French, right?"

"Uhm yes, my father was born in France but I live in Finland with my mother when I was teenager." Grantaire smiled at him, noticing that he was featured in a framed picture just above his head, with his arm curled around a copper haired boy, and both of them were smiling as if they had just received the greatest news of their lives. He wondered what was happening when that picture had been taken for them to be so happy. 

"Well hey, that's pretty cool," Jehan said, pulling Grantaire out of his thoughts. The taller man handed the key over, then continued, "so what brings you to England? Business or pleasure?" 

"I'm here to find an job and somewhere to live." Grantaire explained, finding himself quite fond of the scrawny receptionist already. "My mother, she... ugh, she die a few years ago and my father die when I was a child and I have no brother or sister so I decided to come here." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jehan's voice was so sincere that Grantaire had no trouble believing him. "But I'm happy that you're here, I think you'll love it. If there's anything I can do, then just let me know, I'd be happy to help."

"Thank you." 

~~~~

Grantaire spent the days following his arrival searching tirelessly for a job; he roamed the streets during the day, looking for somewhere that had a vacancy, but he soon found that either nowhere was hiring, or he didn't have enough experience for them to see him as a valuable asset. Which he understood, considering he had never had a real job before. Giving up most of his worldly possessions and moving to a completely different country suddenly seemed like a horrible idea, and part of him wanted to go home. He didn't have much there, just a friend or two, but that was still a little more than he had here. 

He had to keep reminding himself that he had only been in York for five days, and hadn't really given himself all that much time to adjust. 

He walked back into the B&B after yet another unsuccessful day of searching, and opened the door to see Jehan, who smiled widely at him when he walked through the door. Grantaire hadn't seen the strawberry blond haired man since the day he checked in, but he was glad to see him again. One familiar face, no matter how vague, felt like a blessing. 

"Zacharie!" Jehan called out when the short man walked into sight, his face bursting into that characteristic grin. "It's good to see you again, how have you been?"

"You can call me Grantaire, it is what I go by at home." He smiled, walking over to the sign in desk where Jehan was posted. "Tell me, how does a person get a job in this country? I've been looking every day but no where is vacant right now." 

Jehan pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side, "Well, we have an opening here, but I don't know if you'd be interested. It's the basic wage, just cleaning rooms and making sure that the place is tidy, but it is a job, and it's yours if you want it. I know it's not the most glamorous job but at least it's something, right?" 

Grantaire felt an enormous wave of love towards the man behind the desk course through his system. He didn't care if it was scrubbing toilets or flipping burgers in McDonalds, as long as he made enough money to survive and get a more permanent home than the B&B he was currently residing in. He grinned widely, "you could do that?"

"Sure I could, I'm good friends with the owner." Jehan winked, then pointed to one of the pictures behind himself; the same one that Grantaire had noticed when he had been checking in, where Jehan was hugging the copper haired man. "Speaking of friends, what are you doing tonight? Not to be blunt, but I'm guessing that you don't know too many people over here, and a few of my friends are having a get together at a bar we like to go to. Would you maybe wanna come along?"

He didn't. It wasn't anything personal, social events weren't exactly his thing; back home, he tended to just get drunk in Bahorel and Feuilly's basement on a Friday night while they watched bad movies and played video games. Other than that he kept to himself. But he had promised himself that he would try harder to be more social if he ever did make the big move, and now that he had, he wasn't going to let himself down. He smiled and nodded, "Sure, if you're sure that your friends won't mind." 

"They won't, I actually told them about you. They're intrigued, they want to meet you." 

Grantaire didn't understand what he could have possibly said in the ten minutes he last spoke to Jehan, but he wasn't about to point that out. So instead he smiled politely and said, "looking forward to it."


	2. There are wounds that are not meant to heal

In Finland, Grantaire had dated a guy called Jarno. Bahorel introduced them at a bar when he was sixteen, and still used his fake ID to get into places. Jarno was two years older, just like Feuilly, and was the happiest person he had ever met; he spent the entire night at the bar laughing and telling stupid jokes, and Grantaire was enchanted by him. He was drawn in by the crazy stories the older man told, and the love that he had for life, and he was completely mesmerised by his shimmering blond hair, which fell straight down to rest upon his shoulders, which only added to his beauty. After a few drinks, Grantaire leaned into Feuilly and told him that he would sell his soul to spend the rest of his life next to that man. And so, Bahorel introduced them. 

Jarno seemed to like him too, unconcerned by the dark haired teens lack of worldly experience, and started taking him on dates. His mother didn't approve, as strict and old fashioned as she was, because Jarno had a reputation for being reckless and of course she knew of it. There wasn't a thing in Siuntio that that woman hadn't known. But she was happy because her son was happy, and it proved rather difficult to hate Jarno. 

Things with Jarno weren't perfect. The blond man was as stupid and reckless as the rumours said he was, if not more, which led to a couple of hospital visits, but Grantaire didn't care. He was young and in love and he often had to act as though he were the older one in the relationship, because Jarno could be childish in an annoying manner on many occasions. But he was kind, and gentle and even tender when they argued, so Grantaire felt as though he was the luckiest man in the world. His boyfriend was an idiot, but they loved each other and he supposed that was all that mattered. 

He shook his head, shaking away the thoughts of the bar that started everything and his life back home, or what little of it there was left. Jehan walked beside him, chatting away happily about working in the B&B and the friends that he was going to meet; they were social activists, he said in a well mannered tone, concerned with salvaging society and bringing the workers rights. The dark haired man thought that it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, but the last four years had turned him bitter and cynical, although he rather more felt that it had merely opened his eyes to the true face of the world. He didn't say any of that though, because Jehan was being kind in introducing him to his friends, and he didn't want to offend him before they even got there. 

"So what's it like in Finland?"

"It is beautiful," Grantaire smiled. He loved Finland, and always would, no matter how far his adventure took him from home. "The sun doesn't set in the summer, we have the... uh, the sun midnight? I'm not sure how to say it in English. The winter is other way around, and the sun doesn't come up, or it is only there for a few hour. My friend Bahorel hates it; he says that by the time he is used to darkness it is light again, then by the time he is used to light it is dark again."

"It sounds very beautiful. I think I'd like to see that one day." The man's voice swan with awe, his eyes far away as if he were trying to imagine going to sleep with the sun still burning high in the sky. "Tell me about your friends."

"Bahorel is ridiculous. His parents were travellers, they have been all over the world and he went with them for some time but settled in Siuntio when he had to start school. He was my neighbour when we were children, we used to get in all sort of trouble. He is very kind, and very funny but he like to fight when he is drunk." Grantaire smiled fondly, thinking back on all the times Bahorel had been carted away in the back of a police van for being drunk and disorderly. "Feuilly is quieter, he is an artist, very talented. He moved to Finland when he was nine from Poland; his parent and his twin brother were in an accident and his only other relative lived in Siuntio. He wanted to come to England with me, he is not so happy in Finland, but his English is not so good, so he will stay in Finland for a while until he gets better at it." 

Feuilly always said that Finland felt like home because it was where his grandparents were, and they were all that he had left. When they both died last year, it stopped feeling like home and started feeling more like just another place to be. He couldn't get his head around English as a language just yet, but if Grantaire knew Feuilly, he knew that the man would practice relentlessly until he mastered it. 

Jehan was back to chatting away happily beside him about any thing that came into his mind, pointing out the things they were walking past; the best place to get a coffee and the best place to get a pizza on the way home from a long night out. Grantaire made sure to particularly remember that one. Jehan stepped up to a pub with large wooden doors and smiled, "and here we are." 

The small man followed Jehan through the front door towards the back of the room, where three other men were sat, talking animately between themselves. Grantaire stopped dead upon seeing one of them; his hair was the exact same colour as Jarno's and had that same glimmer to it, except his was longer and curled around in perfect ringlets. He didn't really look anything like Jarno; Jarno had been fair skinned with bright blue eyes, and the man before him was tanned with vibrant brown irises, but looking at him stirred up a feeling within him that reminded him of the night he met the blond Fin. He allowed himself to gawk for a moment, then sat down next to Jehan. 

"This is Grantaire," Jehan was smiling again, as he gestured at the dark haired man, and then at each of his other friends in turn, "this is my boyfriend, Courfeyrac, he owns the B&B... well, his parents own it but since he left school he started running it and they moved to Florida. This is Combeferre, he's studying medicine with our other friend Joly, but he's working tonight. And last but not least, this is Enjolras, he's studying to become a lawyer." 

"It's nice to meet you," Grantaire looked at the three men, smiling at each in turn, lingering for a moment when he locked eyes with Enjolras. Suddenly, he was sixteen years old again, back in the bar in Siuntio, locking eyes with another blond. He had no idea what it was about the man before him, but he was enthralled, just as he had been all those years ago. He took a deep breath; he wasn't going to go there again. He wasn't here to fall in love and fawn over pretty blondes with deep brown eyes... Bahorel would call him an idiot if he could hear what he was thinking right now.


	3. Chapter 3

After re-reading this a couple of times I decided to almost completely re-write it. The new version can be found on my page!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Comments are so appreciated and push me to write faster haha


End file.
